


Little Kings

by bluejeanhorse



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Minecraft, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3651594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejeanhorse/pseuds/bluejeanhorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were all 'Kings' in their own rights.  For they took no orders from anyone, could whatever they wanted, and looked out for their own. They were the; The forest King.  The warrior King.  The Knight turned King. The architect King.  The rose King.  The mad King.  Thinking there was no one else like them, until they bump into each and find out that....they were right, there is none like them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the pandemonium

The little creeper boy skittered through the thicket of the woods. Simply enjoying the thrill of sliding down steep embankments and leaping over arching roots of hundred year old trees. Dirty blonde hair snagged full of twigs and leaves, skin rattled with hair line scratches all over his exposed flesh. Barely slowing down, he ran head long at a slanted trunk of a half fallen tree and proceed to climb and claw his way up. A wild laugh ripped from his grinning lips as he took a rather dangerous leap from a branch to a crumbling cliff side, only to ‘omph!’ as he miscalculated the landing and ended up tumbling head over heels.  


After his little unplanned roll, he lay sprawling under a low, far reaching oak tree that’s leaves were gently falling down in the breeze. Catching his breath, he continued to lay there, smiling up at what little sky he could see through the leaves and branches. The warm sun, the cooling breeze, the mossy ground and the twittering of birds made from the ideal ingredients of taking a nap and that is just what the little creeper boy did. Under the great boughs of a thousand year old oak.

~~~***~~~

A great bear roared out his last battle cry as he charged down the merciless intruder of his land.  


The intruder roared out his last battle cry as he charged down the merciless murderer of his people.  
Together, they would clash. As one, they would set unknowing fires to multiple homes. They would quake the earth with their battle, tearing apart ground and sky.  
Yet, only the ‘intruder’ would prevail. Only the ‘intruder’ would drag, bloodied and exhausted, the hide of the great bear back to his home. Where a little red bird cheeped too him as he worked on cleaning and sewing up the fur hide. When he next left his house, it was as different man, and with a monster on his head.

~~~***~~~

A highly regarded knight kneeled before his King.  


“Is all done as I said?” The King question.  
“Yes.” Came the monotone reply of the knight.  
The King grinned, chuckled, even.  
“Good…” he drawled.  
“As a sign of how…proud I am of you. I gift you, the finest armor ever crafted in all the lands. Made from finest of the fine! Be spelled with the foulest of the foul! All who cast their gaze upon thee, shall know thy deeds…” Crowed the King.  
The knight looked upon the chest that was presented to him from his flank. It open to reveal a armor of none other. Mail black as coal, plates rubbed moss green, a matching helmet whose amber tinted screen shown all souls.  
A simple touch from the Knight had the armor transferring from the wooden chest to his own blood covered chest. It fit him perfectly.  
A cackle from above had him snapping his newly helmet equipped head to the king. A slapping of a ring-bejeweled palm upon a golden throne had him clenching his newly gloved hands. A sigh with a mirthful giggle had him crouching low, the targeting screen of the amber visor telling that the ‘fly’ ruin had been selected.  
“My many, many thanks! For without you, none of this would’ve happen! Now, the blood is all on thine and none on me…hehehe!” The king claimed, leaning forwards on his throne, before throwing his head back once more to laugh out his glee. Which he did all the way up till a sword ripped through his chest to imbed itself into the throne which he sat on. A black boot stamped on his twitching hand to use as leverage to help pull the blade out.  
“Long live the fucking King”

~~~***~~~

“Hey! What about this?” Cried a finely dressed young man, to a red breaded older gentleman.  


“Wow, Ray! That looks great! How you get those roses to grow astounds me.” Called back the burly man from across the lawn.  
“Yeah, well, same way how you build houses astounds me” Dryly intoned Ray.  
“I don’t laze about, like you, Ray.”  
“Eh, what I got works for me.”  
“That little one room shed you can’t even turn around in?”  
The house builder clapped his hands to rid himself of the sawdust coating his gloves and walked over to the wall that Ray had been working on.  
Whistling, he set his fists on his hips and leaned back to get a better look at the structure across his wall.  
“In a few weeks, they’ll reach all the up to the roof! Its gonna look perfect!” Proclaimed the, apparently astonished, beefier builder. He looked at the trellises, that were placed everywhere the windows weren’t on the four story house, which had young cuttings of red roses woven into the sides and bottoms of the trellises.  
“Yep and they’ll attack anyone who threatens the house” Said a tired Ray.  
“Thanks again man, this will hopefully keep the creepers and zombies at bay now. Got that fire wood all chopped up and the flower beds all crafted for ya.” Smiled the red head wood craver.  
“Thanks, can you carry it back to my house?” Said Ray, resetting his coat and weapons from the ground back to his person.  
“No! Your house is across the valley!”  
“Aww, come on! It’s not that far!”  
“Yes it is, it’s a fricking half a day’s hike on foot. Never mind pulling a wagon.”  
“Isn’t that why you have a horse?” Cried Ray, throwing his arm towards a free grazing spotted grey draft horse mare that looked up from her food towards Ray, regarding the perfumed smelling man for a grand total of three seconds before snorting and going back to her grass.  
“She’s having a day off from pulling all logs and saplings up. I can’t ask her to work more.” Reasoned the horseman.  
“You’re asking me to work more and seem just fine with it”  
“Yeah, but you’re Ray.”  
“Ah! How dare you!”  
The wood worker laughed. “Come on, I’ll help ya pack your stuff and get it home.”

 

~~~***~~~

A mage of, well, mediocre power walked down a long since abounded path. His red patterned kilt was weighted down with belts lined with potions and daggers. Once pristine white socks were dirtied up and torn from the over grown brush. Black boots and jacket scuffed from a few too many trips over fallen longs and unseen loose stones. Blonde hair bloodied and knotted up on one side from falling backwards into a river and getting a nasty cut from a sharp rock.  
‘It’s worth it, it’s worth it, I swear it’s worth it…’ he chanted again and again. For he had too, after everything he’s been through? It better be fucking worth it!  
Stumbling a bit further…okay, maybe a whole another days’ worth, the grassy path gave way to dirt and ash, which eventually gave way to cobble stone, which eventually gave way to a rickety old bridge that lead into an equally old castle.  
‘Oh man, this looks terrible.’ The man looked over the side of the bridge into the long dried up moat that surrounded the decrepit castle. Once he reached the worn, rusted, but still very much solid iron doors, the man collapsed against them and decided that figuring how to get in could wait till morning, or at least till he slept for like, a, year.  
Morning came and its bright light shown upon the bricked walls that had thick vines curling up and over, in and out, here and there, and where thick enough to hold a man of his size. Frowning at the door and pushing as hard as he could yielded very predictable results. Nothing. So onto the vines he went, grumbling and cursing the entire way.  
After climbing up and over, down the walls top and further down the watch tower stairs, he found himself in what seemed to a banquet room still laid out with silver goblets, plates, bowls, forks and knives. Taking as much as would fit in his bags, he continued on into the throne room where the red velvet covered throne held only one thing, a barbed golden crown with black curling horns spiraling out from the sides.  
Climbing up the stairs and picking up the crown, the kilted man rubbed the dust and cob webs off the horns. ‘Obsidian?’ He questioned, ‘who wears obsidian horns?’ With no other riches about, he put on the crown and continued searching throughout the castle. Only to find that nearly half of it had been burned to the ground and the other half held nothing but fabrics that had been eaten away and wood furniture that was either too big or too rotten to carry. He was able to pop out jewels from some of them, though.  
Finding a set of spiraling stairs that lead down, he casted a mage light to stay by his side, drew his sword, and very cautiously made his way down. A large and seemingly empty room greeted him at the bottom. ‘I’m so fucked.’ He hugged one side of the wall and made it further into the room.  
A barbaric roar from an enormous being, accompanied by heavy pounding and a scream from a more human sized being, trumpeted its way up the stairs and into the remaining castle.  
Five days later, a kilt wearing man walk down an over grown path. With a brown and white spotted bull.

~~~~****~~~~


	2. The Cow and his boy

A hunter stalked through the far reaching’s of his land. He had heard about a strange man with a strange creature through his loyal subjects. Worried and curious, he was quick to set off in search for this intruder.  


The sun had moved a great distance before he finally spotted them, walking along and under a canopy of low reaching trees. ‘Perfect for an above ground ambush’ the little creeper boy thought, climbing silently up a thicker tree that was a ways ahead of the duo.  


‘What a strange pair. What is that thing even following the man? I-I think it’s got horns!’  


Figuring that the bigger creature would be tougher to handle, the young creeper decided that the best course would be to take out the odd horned one first.  


Settling down into a crouch, he readied himself for a leap onto his prey. When the strong neck of the creature passed underneath his feet, the creeper King leapt out the tree with a warbling screech onto the back of the brown furred animal.  


The beast startled forward a leap with a cry of its own. Causing the man to whirl around, hearing the weird bird like screech and the moo of his cow, and to only stand awe struck as to what looked like human clinging atop of his spooking bull.  


The cow jumped about, scared by the strange thing on him. The ‘thing,’ not knowing what the animal would do, gripped two handfuls of fur at the top of the beasts withers, but a particular hard jolt had one of his hands pulling out a fist full of fur. The bull had had enough! Leaping forward once more, he locked up his wide braced front legs, bowing his head down in-between and bucked up to the sky. Successfully catapulting the importune rider into some nearby bushes.  


A few moments of haggard puffs from the bovine and stunned silence from the man as they both stared at the spot that the ‘thing’ had been thrown into.  


“Oi!” Popped up the attacker from the foliage. Twigs and leaves stuck all about his head and green leather hooded jacket. Or, it at least looked like a jacket.  


“-What was that for?-“ He tried to communicate, but he had forgotten that humans don’t speak the hissing language of Creepers.  


The kilted man took a step back at the familiar hissing sound, he knew it meant big danger, meant explosions, yet it came from a kid, a human kid…  


‘What? What is he?’ he thought.  


He actually, out loud, said: “What is that thing!?”  


The creeper wannabe squawked, understanding what the dirtied up man had said. He tried to charge out of the bushes, only get his legs caught up and land face first on the ground in front of the man and the cow. Another few moments of silence passed, this time haggard puffs from the startled man, and silence from the bull as they both stared at the, now visible, ‘thing.’  


The cow gave a loud snort, accompanied with a shake of it’s head, and slowly stepped up to the downed human creeper.  
“Edgar, no!” The man jumped, scrambling in front of the cow and pushing on its forehead between the horns. Trying to deter Edgar from investigating the now whining form on the ground.  


‘Wait…I think it’s still alive.’ The man, who had been hoping that the green splat had an off switch that it had accidentally activated, was successful in stopping Edgar. He walked over the shaking form. Crouching in front, he grabbed ahold of the hood that had fallen over the others head and slowly pulled it up. Revealing dirtied and messed up hair, a face hidden in a pair of hands and hunched up shoulders. A long, drawn out whine that sounded suspiciously like a human ‘owwww…’ came out of the now obvious, very much human, attacker.  


The green clad lad, feeling his hood lifted, looked up at the man that was peering down at him. While holding his hurt nose, he cried out to the man,  


“That was terrible!”  


“It looks like it,” returned the man uncertainly. Not quite understanding the muffled speech and thinking the other was referring to his nose.  


“Wait…You speak English!?” Exclaimed the ever confused man.  


The creeper King pushed himself up on his knees, making him level with the other. One hand still on his nose,  


“Of course I do! I’m not an idiot.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, while his other hand started brushing through hair trying to get rid of the debris.  


“What does that have to do with anything?” The man threw back, before realizing something,  


“Sides, only idiots jump on the backs of cows from trees! Poor Edgar, now he’ll be forever traumatized.” He looked over his shoulder at the cow that had his whole face in the bushes, trying to get the tasty berries near the middle. He turned his attention back the other person when the bull had a slight panic attack when he tried to back up and found one of his horns caught in the thick of it.  


“Look at him. He’ll never be the same.” The cow looked over at them, they looked over at the cow, the cow licked his nose a couple of times.  


The, not as roughed up looking, hunter frowned, staring at the odd animal.  


“What’s an…’Edgar’?”  


The man looked back over to him,  


“He’s my…uh, cow.”  


“Cuwe? What’s a ‘cuew’?”  


The man was getting more and more worried by the second, ‘thought you just said you weren’t an idiot…’  


“Cow, he’s a cow, cow. You don’t know what a cow is?”  


“Nah, we don’t have those here.”  


Green King got up, walking right past the still crouching person on the ground, and up to the now grazing cow. When he got close enough, Edgar lifted his head towards the approaching being and after a few moments of staring, Edgar nudge the humans outstretched hand as a near universal signal for ‘pet me!’ Which the human did very happily, quickly throwing over his shoulder,  


“I’m Gavin, by the way. King of this land.”  


The man rose to full height, wondering if he quietly left would the cow stay here with this-this, Gavin…thing.  


“Ryan, the, uh, King of no land?”  


Gavin turned his head back around to Ryan, his brows furrowing together for brief moment before he turned fully around. A grin slowly spread across his face,  


“Then what are you ‘King’ of?” He questioned, with finger quotations and a slight mocking tone to match.  


Ryan’s eyes narrowed at this annoying twig of thing that had literally fallen out of the trees and just when he was about to reply, he was shocked into silence…again. For Gavin had swiveled back to the cow and tried to hop back onto Edgar’s back. He jumped up too strongly and ended up flinging himself right on over to the other side, flopping awkwardly on the ground with a squawk. Edgar turned and looked at the dazed Gavin on the ground, giving his a slobbery lick on his face.  


Ryan couldn’t take it anymore, he busted out laughing. Gavin, after trying to fend of Edgar’s licks, smiled upside down at Ryan before hoping back up and trying again to climb upon Edgars back. This time with far less force. He wobbled terribly for bit, Ryan quickly stepping forward to steady him with a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and wrist, pushing him upright.  


“This is top!” Crowed Gavin with a wide spread grin once he was settled.  


Ryan let out another chuckle, not truly believing what he was dealing with,  


“The first thing you wanna do, after you attack something and it throws you off, is to ride it again? Aren’t you even a little bit sore from landing in the bushes?” Ryan was truly curious, but he was not about to deny having this Gavin person bonding with Edgar and possibly taking him off his hands.  


“Nah, I’m fit as could be! Indestructible! Sides, that ride was a thrill.” Gavin threw his arms up for exclamation, only to find out that you need some support riding and yes, he was indeed sore from the not-so-gentle landing.  


Ryan shook his head as Gavin clung his hands into Edgar’s back. ‘And here I thought I put all the weird stuff behind me.’  


“So…” began Gavin, catching Ryan’s wondering attention, “…you look terrible.”  


Ryan answered him with glare. Suicidal Gavin obliviously pressed on,  


“I know a springs were you can wash up and stop smelling so bad.” He grinned, knowing he was being an asshole and loving it.  


Ryan’s glare was turning dark,  


“You know,” He drawled, “I haven’t killed anything in the past few hours…I think it’s time I break that streak.”  


Gavin let out very reasonable shrieking ‘What?!’ Before promptly leaping off Edgar and taking off into the forest as Ryan chased him down.  


Mad and crazy laughter could be heard bouncing off of gnarled trunks and scattering the vermin into their homes. A lone cow continued getting his horn stuck in a berry bush. 

 

~~~~****~~~~


	3. Of Undead Challenges

~~~~****~~~~

 

In the middle of a small clearing lay a pile of Ox haunches atop a blanket of some leafy branches with their berries still attached and some fouling fruit. A little red bird flew out of nearby tree that was boarding the clearing, landing on top of the buffet pile and started pecking at the various berries. 

After a while, the little red bird was feeling quite full and it looked up, taking a rest from all the pecking. It preened a little, cleaning a few of its feathers carefully. The little red bird gave a shake to settle all of its feathers in their proper order before settling back down. It gave a terrified screech, shooting off in a flurry of feathers when it saw the wolf at the edge of the clearing. 

The wolf…if it could even be called that, slowly ambled forward. Its swollen and bloody paws dragging over the grass, its maw hung open, drawing heavy breaths that spat droplets of blood each time. It reached the pile in only a few strides and with ease crushed an oxen leg in half in order to down each piece in one swallow. 

It had just thrown its head back to gulp down the bite, when, with incredible speed, swirled completely around. Facing the direction that it had just entered from.

A ‘bear’ was charging down straight at the wolf, its sword drawn and poised to strike when it neared its target. 

The rotting wolf gave a warning roar, giving the ‘bear’ a last chance to cease and desist, before he would show him what became of those who challenge the mighty un-dead. 

They both charged forward, yet the ‘bear’ had the advantage with its speed already at full throttle. As the wolf lunged the last step, its front paws out stretched, to take down the attacker. The bear swung his sword upward from the low right, ducking low and thrusting it towards the under belly of the fouling beast. It connected in the soft under arm of the front left leg of the wolf, ripping deep into the molten flesh. 

A screeching whine barely escaped its throat before the wolf hit ground and tumbled into the forest. The ‘bear’ had been spun around in its momentum and tried to roll back towards where the monster had fallen. Yet he was unsuccessful, as the enraged wolf leapt back into clearing and once more at the ‘bear’. This time, staying low so as to not expose its soft underside. 

One more leap, the wolf twisted its head to the side, one more lunge, its bloody jaws and sharp teeth on display. To show one last time to its soon to be prey, what took him down one last time. 

It thought it had him, it thought it had that slow, annoying little ‘bear’, it was wrong. The ‘bear’ leveled its sward parallel to the ground and aimed true down the wolfs gullet. The wolf took the sword in one long swallow. 

It threw the ‘bear’ back, the body of the defeated wolf, though dead, had too much momentum and they both careened backwards, flipping over themselves serval times. 

“Ahhh, fucking shit! The hurt…” groaned the ‘bear’, rolling over onto his stomach, face down in the dirt.

A little red bird flew in close to the pair, hopped its way towards the downed ‘bear’ and pecked at soul of his boot. 

The boot moved slightly with an accompany “Shoo...” Yet the bird kept at it.

“Fine, fine! I up! You fucking happy, you little twitting fat piece of shit…” The got some of his hair ripped out for that remark. 

After the ‘bear’ had gotten up, retrieved his sword from the wolfs belly, beheaded the wolf, built an altar like wooden structure around the wolf and food, he set fire to it all. The bird and the ‘bear’ stood there for a while, until the sun had nearly, then the ‘bear’ picked up the head and head off. 

~~**~~

The Warrior King walked into a sparling village and all the up to the expansive castle that was surround on all sides by the noble houses. The Warrior King had heard that this particular King would pay a high bounty for the head of the terrible wolf. 

 

“Works out great for us, huh?” He asked the bird on his shoulder, giving it a little scratch under its chin. It preened and gave a content chip in reply. For while he hadn’t killed the wolf for money, he had killed to avenge his people that had lost to the wolf, some extra change certainly wouldn’t hurt a bit. 

When he reached the doors of the vast castle, the guards at the door had only taken a few steps forward before kneeling low to the ground. They recognized their King who had trained they so well, so thoroughly that they went not for jobs and could take down nearly any foe. 

A couple guards, realizing where their pervious King was heading, leaped up and ran at the doors, pushing with all their might to open them quickly. Yet they weren’t fast enough, as the ‘bear’ put his hands on both doors and pushed them open with effortless ease. When they clanged up against their stoppers, the King bent down to grab his sack that he had dropped and proceeded towards the one sitting in the throne ahead. 

At the bottom of the throne, the ‘bear’ stared up the other King on the throne.   
“King Ramsey! I hear, oh the great magnificent, that you would pay for the head of the zombie wolf.” Came the loud voice of the ‘bear’.

King Ramsey laughed enjoying the flattery laid falsely on him.  
“Awe, geez, you always were my favorite” the curly ends of King Ramsey’s mustache told that a big smile was gracing his face. 

“I did promise a pretty sum to the one that would defeat that nasty Zombie wolf.” A knowing look twinkled in his eyes as he on arm of the throne.  
“A hefty sum indeed…”

A sharp from the ‘bear’, a toss of the bag up to the King up high, a revealing of its contents, and a cackling laugh escaping King Ramsey told all.  
“Welcome back, King Michael.” 

 

~~~***~~~


End file.
